The Life Story of a Black Bear

by Harry Perry Robinson

As we came near we knew that the fight could not be altogether over, for there was still a sound of snarling and the angry stamping of a stag, and the sight that at last met our eyes was one that it did us good to see.

There was a wide circular open space, in which every living thing had been trampled down, and the ground was all scored and furrowed with the mark of hoof and antler; and in the middle stood the stag, erect and defiant. Before him on the ground lay the body of the he-wolf, covered with blood and stamped almost beyond recognition. There was blood—his own blood—on the stag’s shoulder, and blood on his horns, which was not his own. At the edge of the circle, lying down and panting, lay the she-wolf, sulky and baffled, and evidently with no mind to go on with the combat alone, though the stag challenged her to come on.

When he saw us, the stag perhaps thought that we were new enemies come to take up the cause of the remaining wolf, for he signalled to his wife, who with the fawn was standing behind him, and they began to move slowly away, the deer and fawn going first, and the stag following, moving backwards, and keeping his antlers always towards the enemy, till they had passed out of the circle of cleared space into the trees. The she-wolf lay there till they had passed, turning sulkily to snarl at us once in a while, and then, as we stood still and showed no sign of approaching or attacking her, she got up and walked over to the dead body of her husband, and began turning it over with her nose. Next she commenced to lick him, and then, taking the throat in her mouth, deliberately began to bite into it! Growling and snarling, she crouched over the body, and we left her to her horrid meal.

It was a relief to know that we at least would be no more troubled by her or her husband.

On the whole, life went very peaceably with us, as it had done with my parents when Kahwa and I were cubs in the days before man came, and before the forest fire drove us into his arms. This year we saw no sign of man. We had no wish to do so, and took care not to go in any direction where we thought we were likely to meet him. Once in midsummer we saw the sky to the north of us red for two or three nights with flames in the distance, and I wondered for a while whether history was going to repeat itself; but the wind blew steadily from the south-west, and the fire did not come within many miles of us. It must, I guessed, be somewhere in the neighbourhood of the former fire, and, of course, it is where man is that forest fires are frequent; for man is the only animal that makes fires for himself, and it is from his fires that the flames spread to the woods. Sometimes, in very dry seasons, the woods ignite of themselves, but that is rare.

Of course, as the summer grew, we moved about and wandered abroad as in other years, keeping in the neighbourhood of the streams, sheltering during the heat of the day, and roaming over the mountains in the sweet cool air of the night and morning. We always kept together, though, of course, the little ones clung to their mother more than to me. I was a kind father to them, I think, and I believe they liked and admired me as much as young cubs ought to like and admire their father; but, as is always the case in families like ours, while occasionally one of them, generally Kahwa, would wander away from the others with me, usually Wooffa and the youngsters kept close together while I moved about alone, though within calling distance, in case I should be needed. Sometimes the father bear leaves the family altogether during the early summer months, and either goes alone or joins other he-bears that are solitary like himself; but it is better for the family to stay together. Besides, Wooffa and I suited each other admirably as hunting companions, and I am not ashamed to confess that I was fond of my children.

I began to realize what an anxiety I must have been to my own parents, for one or the other of the cubs was always getting into trouble. They were sitting one day watching Wooffa and myself trying to turn over a big log. We had warned them again and again not to stand below a log downhill when we were moving it, but, of course, Kahwa had paid no attention, and, as that was the best place from which to watch the operation, down she sat and contentedly awaited results. After two or three efforts we felt the log begin to move, and then, with one heave together, we got it started, and it rolled straight down on Kahwa. We had been too busy to notice where she was till we heard her squeal. It might very easily have killed her, and as it was her hind-leg was firmly caught, with the whole weight of the great log resting on it. Her mother boxed her ears, while I managed to move the log enough to set her free; but her foot was badly crushed, and she limped more or less for the rest of the summer.

On another occasion Wahka put his head into a slit in a hollow tree to look for honey, and could not get it out again. I have heard of bears being killed in that way, when the hole is some distance from the ground. The opening will probably be narrower towards the bottom than it is in the middle, and when a bear climbs up to the hole, of course he puts his head in at the widest part. Perhaps he slips, and his neck slides down to where the slit is narrower. If he loses his hold altogether, his whole weight comes on his neck, and he breaks it; and even if that does not happen, he may not be able to raise himself and force his neck up to the wider opening again, but has to hang there caught in a trap until he dies.

In this case Wahka’s feet were on the ground, as the hole was quite low down, so there was no danger of his being hanged; but he was so frightened when he found that he could not pull his head out again that it is quite possible that if he had been alone he never would have succeeded in getting loose. But his mother smacked him until he lifted his head a little to where the hole was an inch or so wider, and he was able to pull out. But there was not much hair left on the back of his ears by the time he was free.

With all the trouble that they gave us, however, and though I would not have let them know it for worlds, and always made a point of noticing their existence as little as possible, I was proud of my children. Wahka, especially, gave promise of growing into a splendid bear, while Kahwa was the very image of her mother, even down to the little white streak on her chest, though that did not appear until she got her second year’s coat.